The Ides of March are upon us, which means it’s time for off-brand Julius Caesar references and Shamrock Shakes... and more importantly, some St. Patrick’s Day Celt-centric movie recommendations from the Denis Theatre. First, a detour through my own family ancestry.
A healthy amount of Irish blood flows through my veins. Before we travel too far down the rainbow looking for leprechaun treasure – no, my Patrick surname does not originate from Ireland. Common misconception. I was informed by my late aunt that Patrick is most often Scottish in origin. The American immigration services thought that Fitzpatrick or Mulpatrick was too ethnic and/or multisyllabic. Before you blame YouTube, TikTok, and video games, Americans have always had poor attention spans.
I first traveled to Ireland for a portion of my MFA writing program in 2007. I felt a kinship with the land and the people and the pace of life that can only be explained as unhurried – except when driving, because the Irish are only ever hurried to be unhurried again. So, on one hand my affection gravitated toward their approach to life and the colorful people, on the other, it was the many, many… many pints of brown available at every port of call.
For the uninitiated, a pint of brown is a proper glass of stout. Double poured – never all at once. Depending upon the part of Ireland, the brown would be Guinness, Murphy’s, or my personal favorite, Beamish. Many pints were consumed and shite was gobbed in peat-burning pubs and nary a minute felt misspent. I’m sure much writing and workshopping was also done in support of my graduate degree, but oddly all the words I put down on paper got misplaced in the fog rolling in from the Irish Sea.
Locals turned up in the evenings for our readings. They actively engaged with us about our writing. These were fisherman, bartenders and shop owners, an everyday sort that wanted to discuss literature and poetry. Can you even imagine? Still prioritizing primitive artifacts like the written word. The pace of everything predisposed to the ponderance of things great and small. We were taken aback – as most of us couldn’t even commandeer the ears of our families, those already obligated to care. Here were perfect strangers listening and considering. Most of them even stayed awake for the entirety of our readings.
The Ireland shown on the big screen often recalls the Ireland I met during those two weeks in January 2007. It’s certainly not the same small fishing village south of Dublin, but the filmmakers who’ve come from the Isle understand the off-kilter, understated humor that’s more eccentric and self-effacing than their English neighbors to the east. The Irish rarely take themselves seriously and often use humor to deflect from a deep, palimpsestuous melancholy written and re-written by generations of oppression and dismissal.
One of my favorite Irish jokes not only reveals the chip on their shoulder, but also their willingness to lean pridefully into a certain omnipresent stereotype. For the record, the owner of a bed and breakfast told us a version of this joke over brunch one morning. He just pulled up a chair and joined us.
“Ma’am, I’d like to order a Guinness.”
“You must be Irish.”
“Oh, so ordering a Guinness makes me Irish? If I ordered a pizza would you ask if I was Italian? If I ordered a Bratwurst, would that make me German?”
“No—but…”
“So why exactly do you think I’m Irish?”
“Sir, this is a bookstore.”
The day-is-long and life-is-short mentality permeates Irish methodology. Irish filmmakers, consequently, enjoy a good character, green countryside, music, drink and the erratic rhythms of life. Take your time to soak in all in – for better or worse – but do it all with a sense of humor.
John Ford’s The Quiet Man (1952) starring John Wayne and Maureen O’Hara has been labeled the quintessential classic “Irish” movie. In the decades since its release The Quiet Man has turned the village of Cong, County Mayo, into a tourist destination for fans seeking the authentic Ireland from the film. Ironically, Cong now has a five-star hotel, hosts yearly Quiet Man Fan Club get-togethers, and has remodeled shops and buildings to more closely emulate the fictional town in the movie.
In a similar vein, the American version of St. Patrick’s Day (a cultural and religious celebration commemorating Saint Patrick and the arrival of Christianity in Ireland) has been commercialized and appropriated by all ethnicities as an excuse to drink (to excess). Still, there’s no reason we can’t similarly use that day as impetus to mention a few great movies featuring Ireland’s singular character. Suffice to say, the authentic Ireland can no longer be found in Cong. I’d like to share with you some of my favorite Irish-set movies, so that you might be able to discover some of the Ireland with which I fell in love.
Once (John Carney, 2007) / Sing Street (John Carney, 2016)
John Carney should be championed whenever the opportunity arises.
Both Once and Sing Street reveal an off-the-tour Dublin and dive deep into that city’s unique, historic character. The musicals boast wildly different tones, but like a good whiskey, both warm your innards through song and soulful connection. Plus, most flights to the Emerald Isle touch down in Dublin, making that city the starting point for many a journey through Ireland.
Once is a romantic musical drama. Sing Street is a romantic musical comedy. Carney uses song not as performative art or for a show stopping set piece, but to enrich the story he’s telling on screen. The songs stand on their own, likewise the stories — but together they’re beautiful cinema.
Calvary (John Michael McDonagh, 2014)
In confession a man tells Father James (Brendan Gleeson) that he was horribly abused by a priest and in order to extract revenge against the Catholic church, he is going to kill James on the beach next Sunday. His logic is that the church will suffer more by losing a good priest than an abusive one.
This eloquent and masterfully paced character drama features a stunning central performance from Gleeson. Though the film earnestly examines religious faith – it is not a movie that suffocates with religious messaging. McDonough captures the psychological horror of sexual abuse but also considers the role of priests in a contemporary society that’s losing its faith. The self-referential nature of Calvary allows a measure of levity to penetrate the darkness; the deft balance of light and dark, personal and communal, perfectly represents the culture’s unique ability to cope with hopelessness by embracing an inevitable future.
This is not an easy watch – but it’s one you won’t regret or soon forget. For a lighter shade of McDonough seek out his directorial debut The Guard (2011) – the most financially successful independent Irish-made film of all time – also starring Brendan Gleeson (and Don Cheadle).
Brooklyn (John Crowley, 2015)
Based on the Colm Tóibín novel of the same name, Saoirse Ronan anchors a lush period drama that unfolds at a very Irish pace, feeling as if it’s been pulled straightaway from another period of time entirely. An earnestly romantic story of a young Irishwoman who emigrates to Brooklyn, marries an Italian plumber and is forced to choose between her new America or old-world Ireland, her future or her past.
Ronan’s central performance, supported by Domhall Gleeson and an eminently charming Emory Cohen, provides Cork-born Crowley the tapestry to explore a feminist viewpoint of the American immigrant. Her divine performance – and this movie, though it errs lighter instead of wallowing in some of the harsher realities – spins an elegant, timeless story.
Even if you haven’t seen it, you’ve probably heard plenty about Brooklyn. Its award-season accolades might have made it seem stuffy or obtuse. Rest assured, this movie is accessible, good-hearted and sincere – the type that’s just not made very often anymore.
The Commitments (Alan Parker, 1991)
A band from the wrong side of Dublin decides to play soul music because their band manager (Robert Arkins) makes a persuasive argument that taps into their very Irish, very Dublin sense of relative self-worth. Based on a book by famed Irish novelist Roddy Doyle (and adapted to the screen by Doyle), The Commitments provides a hangout for a gallery of very Irish personalities to talk and sing and drink. It’s so Irish, in fact, that it neither goes anywhere in particular nor reaches any profound conclusions. Small lives and big music – but it’s not one of those talky indie movies that abuses the platform. Perish the thought. Filled with the kind of minor personal dramas that arise between humans, The Commitments feels more real than just about any episode of VH1 Behind the Music.
In the end, The Commitments might leave you wanting more time with these characters, maybe some kind of grand dramatic reckoning. My subsequent viewings of the movie convinced me, however, that this movie’s ending couldn’t actually be more Irish. Like the “Irish exit,” Parker allows the movie to sneak out the pub’s back door, so it doesn’t interrupt the good time you’re already having.
Secret of Kells (Tomm Moore, Nora Twomey, 2009)
Like Hayao Miyazaki, except Irish. There’s no better elevator pitch for Tomm Moore’s first entry in his “Irish Folklore Trilogy” (followed by the also excellent Song of the Sea and Wolfwalkers.
These animated wonders pay homage to Celtic art and culture while evoking Studio Ghibli and the mid-century cartoons produced by UPA (Remember Gerald McBoing! Boing!?). The cartoon’s less frantic pace allows time and space for character, music, and exquisite calm – while still crafting a vibrant story enjoyable for all ages.
Set in 9th century Ireland century during the Viking expansion, a 12-year-old boy named Brendon apprentices in the monastery and hears the monks talk of Brother Aidan, a mysterious illustrator of a book that “turns darkness into light.” He’s never been allowed outside the walls of his tiny town, but soon our fearful protagonist must venture out into an enchanted forest and face his fears to help Aiden complete the legendary Book of Kells.
More a mood than a plot-driven narrative, The Secret of Kells bathes the viewer in the potential of the animated film as malleable, moving art. Characters and background colors swirl and glide across the screen. Sketch lines define and redefine the two-dimensional canvas, constantly in flux. I hate to resort to platitudes as prosaic as “lovely” – but The Secret of Kells is a lovely, warm film that explores faith and friendship.
Leap Year (Anand Tucker, 2010)
When creating lists of recommendations under categories as broad as “Ireland on Film” I like to touch as many genres as possible. Movie watchers come in all manners and temperaments. So, while I will freely admit that Leap Year will inspire more dismissive platitudes than enthusiasm – there’s still a beautiful old Hollywood simplicity in watching two gorgeous humans (Amy Adams and Matthew Goode) travel through the rolling landscapes of Ireland without much at stake.
Anna follows her boyfriend to Dublin to ask him to marry her. Plans go awry, as they do, and Anna winds up on the wrong coast of Ireland with a churlish but oh so handsome Irishman named Declan.
It’s basically a less witty It Happened One Night, played straight, no screwball. That said, romantic comedies come far worse than Leap Year and if you’re only in it for the aesthetics, this tour of Ireland comes right to your couch, no six-hour flight or close attention required.
Grabbers (Jon Wright, 2012)
Remember just a moment ago when I said that everyone’s favorite genre deserves a turn? This one here’s a tipsy horror comedy about Irish fisherman going missing, a sudden rash of whale carcasses, and mysterious murders on an Island just off the Irish coast. An alcoholic cop (Richard Coyle) and his by-the-book female partner (Ruth Bradley) discover that the town has been infiltrated by giant, bloodsucking and tentacled aliens (who didn’t see that coming?) and their only weapon to combat the invasion? Well, I won’t spoil anything but… Sláinte!
Like the more recent (and highly recommended) horror comedy Extra Ordinary (2020), Grabbers falls squarely into the Irish tradition of amiable comedies set in rural communities populated by colorful casts of dullards. The point of this isn’t the scares or the monsters (though they’re more than good enough for the film’s modest B-movie standards) – it’s that the horror beats and creature effects support character development and comedy.
Maybe this shouldn’t work as well as it does. It’s not all that inventive or original, but Wright’s monster movie embraces that Irish self-effacement and tendency toward understated overstatement.
Five bonus picks for movies filmed in Ireland that may not necessarily support the stated purpose of my blog post but are also essential additions to any St. Patrick’s Day lineup!
My Left Foot (Jim Sheridan, 1989)
The Crying Game (Neil Jordan, 1992)
The Secret of Roan Inish (John Sayles, 1993)
The Wind That Shakes the Barley (Ken Loach, 2007)
Philomena (Stephen Frears, 2013)
James David Patrick is a Pittsburgh-based writer with a movie-watching problem. He has a degree in Film Studies from Emory University that gives him license to discuss Russian Shakespeare adaptations and oeuvre of Jason Statham in the same sentence. He hosts the Cinema Shame podcast. You’ll find him crate diving at local record shops. James blogs about movies, music and 80’s nostalgia at www.thirtyhertzrumble.com.